


Our Dried Voices

by falafelfiction



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:31:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2902802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falafelfiction/pseuds/falafelfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five occasions when Felix Gaeta was called to see Admiral Adama and President Roslin. This fic is a study of the three characters slow devolution over time. It is also a missing scenes story, filling some gaps in the episodes 'Water', 'Lay Down your Burdens', 'Collaborators, 'Taking a Break from all your Worries' and 'Revelations'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Dried Voices

**Author's Note:**

> Most of my BSG fic was written in 2008/2009 and posted on my livejournal. I'm uploading it to Ao3 for posterity.

“Come in, Mr Gaeta…”

Felix smoothed a hand over his uniform. There were no creases to be seen. His hair was neat and his buttons were shining. Satisfied that his appearance was immaculate he stepped back into the conference room, rounding the table and coming to a halt before the Commander. Sitting by his side was Laura Roslin, so Felix snapped a salute and stood to attention. He wasn’t certain this was necessary but it was protocol that the crew honoured the President’s visits.

“At ease, Lieutenant,” Adama began in his familiar rusty tones. “I’ve a matter that I need to discuss with you...a matter of utmost secrecy…”

Roslin raised her hand, interrupting him.

“One moment, Commander…”

She turned to Felix, smiling brashly.

“Mr Gaeta, I wanted to apologise for putting you on the spot during the meeting earlier. I didn’t mean to pester you about those ruptures in the water tanks. I’m new to all this as I’m sure you are aware.” She raised one shoulder in a shrug. “Truth be told I just wanted to feel involved the proceedings.”

Felix stood blinking, perplexed by her lack of decorum. He glanced nervously to Adama, who waved his hand in a silent gesture instructing Felix to politely ignore the President and listen to his instructions.

“Mr Gaeta…no doubt you’ve heard the rumours that cylons can now imitate human form. I must regretfully inform you that these rumours are true, meaning that our vessel may already be infiltrated by any number of undercover cylon agents. It is imperative that we find a method of cylon detection as soon as possible.” His brow tensed into a frown. “I’m told that our Doctor Baltar is a genius…”

“He is, sir,” Felix blurted. “I mean…”

He faltered, realising he had spoken out of turn.

Roslin smiled. “You’re a fan of the Doctor’s work, Lieutenant?” she asked playfully, seeming to delight in his awkwardness.

“Well...I am, of course, familiar with his navigation program, Madam President,” he began haltingly. “And during my second term at college I read many of Doctor Baltar’s fascinating studies into biogenetic…”

“Excellent,” said Adama, cutting him off before he started to babble. “I’d like you to serve as the Doctor’s assistant for this project.”

“Me sir?” said Felix, the pride and excitement already swelling in his chest.

Adama snorted. “Mr Gaeta…you’re probably the only member of my crew with a brain sharp enough to keep up with that screwy doctor. And I know we can rely on you. This project requires absolute discretion. You’re not to breathe a word to the rest of the crew, understand? I’ll also be expecting you to keep up your duties in the CIC. I trust that you can handle the extra work load?”

Felix was already nodding his head vigorously. He was grateful to the Commander for recognising that he lived for his work and was only too happy to receive more of it.

“It’s no trouble at all, sir,” he assured them once he had composed himself. “I’d like to thank you for giving me this opportunity. You've no idea what it means to me.”

Roslin laughed, shaking her head.

“Are all your young officers this keen, Commander?”

Adama smiled too, regarding him fondly.

“Only our best and brightest, Madam President.”

Felix felt another rush of pride inflating his chest. He saluted to them once again; feeling a little ridiculous for doing so, but unable to restrain himself. Adama waved his hand again, brushing aside his formality.

“Hurry along, son,” he said curtly. “You should catch the Doctor on the way back to his lab. You can introduce yourself to him.”

Felix marched briskly from the conference room. He was already acquainted with Doctor Baltar, of course, but the Commander and the President didn’t need to know that. Felix was very pleased for this chance to work alongside the famous scientist. And he wanted to make the old man proud. He knew that he wasn’t one of his favourites, like Starbuck, but he was touched whenever the Commander called him ‘son’ and made him feel like part of the family. All the young officers felt this way to some extent. They were all orphans now, all eager for adoption into Adama's favour.

Yes. This was his chance to shine.

 

~*~

 

“Come in, Mr Gaeta...”

Felix took a calming breath before entering the office of the Colonial One. The Admiral hadn’t spoken to him on the shuttle ride from the Galactica. His face had been hard and still as a boulder since Felix had informed him of the election fix. Adama and Roslin had been talking for over an hour before they called him inside. Both were on their feet as he entered the office.

Felix halted in the middle of the room. His palms were sweating. He wondered if the fright was showing in his eyes. He didn’t know why he should feel so nervous. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Surely he hadn’t.

The Admiral crossed the space between them.

“I wanted to thank you for bringing this error with the Zephyr’s ballots to our attention, Lieutenant,” Adama said stiffly.

He offered a handshake. When Felix accepted it he found that the old man’s grip was tight and abrasive; the sort of grip that suggested he would rather be twisting Felix’s arm up his back until the bone snapped.

Felix quickly brought his hands back to his sides.

“I don’t think it was an error, sir,” he said staunchly. “That’s not possible. The ballots from the Zephyr contained no misprint. They must have been forgeries. As I said on the phone I suspect that Colonel Tigh was…”

“Mr Gaeta,” Adama snapped, causing Felix to flinch. “I’ll ask you not to think about this matter any further. We’re dealing with it ourselves.”

Felix blinked. He felt like he was being slapped; scolded. He didn’t understand. It had been his job to supervise the vote counting. He was upholding democracy against an attempt to rig the election. Doctor Baltar was the rightful winning candidate. Why were they making him feel like he had done something wrong?

“Sit down please, Mr Gaeta…” said the Admiral.

Felix obeyed, but immediately regretted it. Adama and Roslin remained on their feet, looming over him like interrogators. The former President had not spoken yet. Her eyes were red and puffy. She looked like she had been crying.

“The final vote will be amended,” Roslin informed him tersely. “Gaius Baltar will be the new legally elected President of the Colonies.” She grimaced as though a shudder was passing through her. “Mr Gaeta, I would ask that you please keep your discovery to yourself…” Her voice was calm, but menacing as a knife edge. “I must warn you…if there is an investigation then it would likely to lead to the prosecution of several of your colleagues from the CIC. I’m sure you would not want that.”

Felix had only voiced his suspicions about Colonel Tigh, but judging by her words he supposed that Dee would be implicated in the conspiracy as well.

“No, I wouldn’t want that,” he said quickly. “So long as the vote was fair.”

“Yes, yes…it’s all fair now,” Roslin breezed, her face wearing a pinched smile. “Don’t worry, Mr Gaeta. Everything is fair and above board…thanks to you.”

Felix felt his throat constricting. It sounded like she was patronising him. Doctor Baltar was right about her. She was very arrogant for a school teacher.

“May I ask you something?” Roslin continued softly, tipping her head. “Do you believe that Doctor Baltar’s presidency is what’s best for the people of this fleet? Do you think they made the right choice?”

Felix frowned, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He had voted for Baltar, of course, but that vote wasn’t based solely on their friendship or his personal admiration of the Doctor. It was more than that; much more.

“Madam President,” He paused, considering. “ _Miss Roslin_. I have taken the time to study the surface and natural properties of New Caprica. I am well aware that it is no paradise. Much of its terrain is harsh and barren. But it does offer us a refuge from the cylons. The planet itself has many resources that we can use to build up a civilisation. I’m not saying that it will happen overnight, but…”

“But you’re not afraid of a little hard work, are you son?” Adama chipped in.

Felix nodded resolutely. “That’s right, Admiral.”

Adama sighed. “Well…it sounds like you have plenty of ideas. I’m sure the President would like to hear them for himself. He has always valued your assistance. How about I make a recommendation to his office? We could see about making you a member of his staff on a more permanent basis.”

Felix hesitated. The Admiral was smiling and his tone was kindly as if he was handing him a golden opportunity. This was a tremendous career opportunity, but Felix didn’t feel like he was earning it. It felt more like he was being banished from the CIC, away from the glowering eyes of Colonel Tigh. They were the conspirators. Why was he being sent into exile?

Well, it didn’t have to be that way. He had a chance to prove to them that he and the people of the twelve colonies had made the right choice. Felix rose to his feet again, staring down at Roslin and Adama.

“It would be an honour to serve the President elect, sir,” he answered, his voice clear and undaunted. “I believe in his vision of New Caprica. I truly do. And I look forward to making that dream a reality.”

Felix exhaled and waited for them to respond to his bold resolution. But Roslin and Adama would only smile weakly and nod their heads with something that resembled pity lighting in their eyes.

 

~*~

 

“Come in, Mr Gaeta...”

Felix kept his hands bunched at his sides. It was the only way he could keep them from trembling. His head was bowed low; his eyes scanning the carpet patterns as he made his way to the Admiral’s desk.

This was the first time that Felix had left his quarters since it happened...since the Chief had cut his bonds and the Circle had allowed him to leave the launch tube. He had fled up to his rooms and secured the lock on his door. After that he had spent many hours pacing, tidying, reading over his manuals…anything to settle his nerves. After all his usual rituals had failed to calm him, he had simply curled up in his rack and cried into his sheets. He never usually cried.

“Mr Gaeta,” the Admiral repeated; his voice soft and reassuring. “I’ve just received a visit from Chief Tyrol. He has informed me that during the cylon occupation of New Caprica you leaked information from Baltar’s administration to the human resistance force; information including the wireless frequencies that allowed our people on the ground to make contact with the fleet.”

Felix nodded, his eyes still turned down.

“Without you, Mr Gaeta…our people could not have been rescued.”

Adama said this slowly, grandly, as though he was trying to impress on Felix the importance of his contribution. Tyrol had spoken in much the same way when he had defended him to the Circle. The Chief had said that he was the reason they were back on this ship. Felix wondered if they had forgotten that he was also the reason they had wound up on that Gods forsaken planet in the first place.

“I did what I could,” Felix murmured, tonelessly.

“You did more than enough, son.”

Adama pressed his shoulder in a commending fashion. For a moment it seemed like he might draw him into an embrace, but Felix cringed away from his touch. He didn’t like physical contact at the best of times, but especially not after what had just happened to him. The Admiral retracted his hand and gestured for him to be seated.

“Are you okay, Mr Gaeta?” said a gentle voice.

Felix lifted his head to see Laura Roslin standing beside the Admiral’s desk, her eyes gleaming with concern. He hadn’t realised she was there. She and Adama were still close allies then it seemed. Felix nodded that he was fine, though he was still quaking inside. The Admiral poured him a drink from the bottle on his desk.

“The Chief has also informed us of these secret tribunals,” muttered Adama, his face clenching with fury and disgust. “He confessed that he was part of a circle of voters authorised by President Zarek to judge and sentence those suspected of collaboration with the cylons.” He shook his head. “Another frakking witch hunt…”

Roslin leaned forward, her face kind and motherly. Felix tried to turn away from her scrutiny. He knew that his lips were swollen and abraded where they had ripped the tape off his mouth.

“Mr Gaeta, let me assure you that the Admiral and myself had no idea that these trials were taking place,” Roslin said firmly. “This was Tom Zarek’s own brand of justice. We played no part in it…and it ends here.”

Felix nodded again. “How many were executed?”

Adama sighed. “Lee has reported at least thirteen disappearances in the fleet since we left the orbit of New Caprica.”

“Thirteen,” Felix repeated. “Right…”

He logged this number away in his mind. Felix decided that during the next week he would find out what their names were. He would try to get hold of their photographs and he would find them a place in the halls of remembrance. It wasn’t so much that he was sentimental. He just wanted those members of the Circle to look at their faces once again and question the choices that they had made.

“After I’ve been sworn back into the presidency I have plans to issue a blanket pardon for every member of our fleet,” Roslin informed him. “I believe it is the best way to move forward. Don’t you agree, Lieutenant?”

Felix kept nodding, barely listening to her.

“Mr Gaeta…I would also like to take the opportunity to acknowledge the role that you played in the resistance effort and exonerate you publically from all accusations of collaboration with the enemy…”

“No...” he said sharply. “No, I don’t want any of that.”

He raised his head. Roslin and Adama were frowning in confusion.

“I mean…I don’t want any special attention, Madam President,” he stammered. “Please...I would rather it not be mentioned.” He snorted. “Just a stupid dog bowl.”

Adama sighed. “Is there anything we can do for you, son?”

Felix fell silent, considering his offer.

“I think…I’d like to get back to work, sir.”

The Admiral nodded acceptingly. “Well, you know that we need your help with the repairs in the CIC. I also need someone to go through Baltar’s star charts and get us back on a course for Earth. Think you can handle that?”

Felix nodded, rising to his feet, wishing to leave them now. He couldn’t take any more of this. He didn’t want to be a hero. He didn’t want to be a traitor. He just wanted things to go back to normal, if that was even possible.

“Felix...” the Admiral called to him as he was leaving.

He halted by the door, startled to hear the old man addressing him by his first name. He took a breath and glanced over his shoulder.

“You’re a good kid,” Adama told him. “Don’t forget that.”

Felix nodded once again. He couldn’t seem to do anything else with his head. He left the Admiral’s quarters and made his way down the corridors; looking furtively in all directions, fearing that some other group might pounce on him and put a bag over his head. Felix didn’t think that he would feel safe again until the President issued her general amnesty. Turning it over in his mind he began to wonder if this sweeping gesture of forgiveness would extend to Gaius Baltar.

 

~*~

 

“Come in, Mr Gaeta…”

The guard took Felix’s arm in a vice-like grip and steered him into the observation room. Roslin had told the marine to ‘go easy on him’ but these soldiers weren’t trained in gentleness. Felix’s brow was filmed with sweat and his uniform was ruffled. The skin of his hands was stained with Baltar’s blood and his teeth were loose on the left side of his mouth where the Admiral’s fist had slammed into his jaw. Felix would have smartened himself up if it wasn’t for the shackles on his wrists.

“Those cuffs won’t be necessary,” said Adama.

The guard nodded, freeing his hands and then leaving the room. Roslin and Adama sat together at a table; their faces stern and dismayed. He supposed that they had just returned from sickbay. He remembered Cottle saying that Baltar would live. Felix sighed and waited patiently for them to strip him of his rank and order him to the brig.

Roslin cleared her throat. “Mr Gaeta, I would like to apologise to you. We made a mistake. We shouldn’t have put you in that situation.”

Felix blinked his eyes. He was still feeling a little dazed from Adama’s punch. He couldn’t make sense of what she was saying.

“Madam President…” he faltered, “...I stabbed the prisoner in the neck.”

Clearly they both needed this to be pointed out to them.

Roslin sighed. “Lieutenant, we were watching the security footage. We saw the way Baltar grabbed you…the way he was threatening you, provoking you…you were within your rights to defend yourself.”

Felix almost laughed. It seemed to Roslin’s mind any person in conflict with Gaius Baltar was automatically the innocent party. Even a man brandishing a pen over his throat was the victim of the situation.

His smile slipped away as he noticed that Roslin was now holding that very same pen in her hands. She laid it down on the tabletop for him to see.

“Lieutenant, this isn’t the type of pen issued to the crewmen aboard the Galactica,” she said blandly. “I have pens like this one in my desk drawers on the Colonial One. Am I right in thinking that this pen once belonged to Gaius Baltar?”

Felix tensed for a moment and then nodded. He had secretly been hoping that somebody would notice. Roslin put a hand to her mouth, sympathy flashing in her eyes, as she leaned forwards in her chair.

“You were there, weren’t you?” she said softly. “It’s the pen that Baltar used to sign that death warrant, isn’t it? And you’ve kept it with you all this time…you saw him sign that death warrant, didn’t you?”

Felix listened carefully to her coaxing words. Slowly it occurred to him that she wasn’t asking him a question. This was more like a set of instructions. Her eyes were full of pity and understanding. She would grant him so much compassion if he only told her what she wanted to hear. Felix understood now that for Roslin the right answer and the truth weren’t necessarily the same thing.

He sank down into a chair, tears welling in his eyes.

“Yes,” he answered numbly. “I saw him sign it.”

In some ways it didn’t feel like a lie. Felix had imagined the scene so many times that it felt like he had witnessed it. Sometimes he imagined that Gaius was helpless; forced to sign at gunpoint. Sometimes he was so drunk he didn’t even know what he was approving. Sometimes he was cruel and remorseless, signing two hundred lives away on a whim. However many ways Felix imagined the moment it always ended the same way. He always signed his name.

Roslin reached across the desk and took his hand.

“Oh Felix...” she sighed. “I know how much you once admired that man. I can’t imagine how shattering that must have been for you.”

Felix clung to her sympathy for a moment and then tugged his hand away. Roslin had spoken to him like this during the cell confrontation, lulling him into a false sense of security so Adama could knock him down. Felix sensed this was another one of her traps. He waited for them to quit frakking with him.

“Son...I think we underestimated the amount of stress you've been under,” Adama said kindly. “I want you to take a few days off work. I’m going to pencil you in for some sessions with the ship’s psychiatrist. Try to sort through these feelings of hurt and anger you’ve been carrying around since New Caprica. At other times...you should just try to relax.”

Felix smiled tightly. Surely the Admiral knew how bad he was at relaxing. He knew that enforced time off work was a punishment that Felix would hope to avoid. But under the circumstances he grudgingly accepted it.

“Is there anything else?” he asked, still waiting for the catch.

Roslin and Adama turned to each other, sharing a brief but intimate glance. Felix rolled his eyes. It was so obvious that there was something going on between these two. He had begun dropping little hints to Dee about what the exact nature of their relationship may be. He could already imagine them lying in bed together, discussing the crew and the mission, whilst their fingers stroked over their clammy naked skin.

“We have decided to give Baltar a fair trial,” Roslin said abruptly, turning back to Felix and cutting into his thoughts. “Naturally due to your history with the former President you will be called on as a witness. A very important witness, Mr Gaeta. You’re the only one who saw the extent of Baltar’s treachery with your own eyes. We will need you to stand up in court and tell the jury exactly what you saw.”

His jaw tightened, his fingers tensing on the arms of the chair. Felix felt the iron bars of his lie falling down around him, trapping him inside. Yet even in his defeat he had to admit he was impressed. Roslin knew how to get what she wanted. The Admiral was eying him testily, his hands still bunched into fists.

“Can you do that for us, Lieutenant?” he asked gruffly.

“Yes sir, ” Felix returned. “I will.”

 

~*~

 

“Come in, Mr Gaeta…”

Adama held the door open while Felix hobbled inside the cabin, struggling not to wince with the effort of moving on one leg. The old man extended his hand to him, offering to take his crutches while he lowered himself into one of the passenger seats. Felix shook his head, declining his assistance. He could do this by himself. Once he was sitting Felix began to fasten up the buttons of his uniform. He tended to keep his clothing loose now; for comfort's sake and for freedom of movement. Since he had needed to cut all his trouser legs short at his right knee it seemed futile trying to keep up a groomed appearance. But old habits died hard. He sighed, letting his hands fall into his lap, giving up with the buttons.

Roslin was sitting in the seat opposite him. The Admiral sat down by her side, coiling his arm around her shoulders. They didn’t even try to hide what was between them anymore. Just like Roslin could no longer hide her illness. She was pale and haggard. Her black wig was like a veil of death shrouding her face. Felix wondered how much time she had left now. He wondered if he would miss her.

Adama and Roslin had asked Felix to join them on their shuttle taking them to Earth; the last shuttle to leave the Galactica. The Admiral had insisted that the rest of the crew piled into those initial transporters. Felix found that he could wait too. He wasn’t going to win any races trying to touch the ground first. Besides, Adama said there was an important matter that he wished to discuss with him.

“You wanted to speak with me, sir?” Felix prompted.

Adama blinked and then nodded, as if he had suffered a brief lapse in memory. Felix took a breath. He had heard about the Admiral's nervous breakdown. He could see the scratches on his hands that he had used to tear apart his quarters. He was covering it well. Before the crew he had been stern and robust as always. When Felix had confirmed the constellations match, Adama and Roslin had led the celebrations. But now he was seeing them up close. He noticed the cracks in their skin and the sorrow in their eyes. They both looked so old...so frail. Felix knew they were in no rush to set foot on this planet. It wasn’t the place that they would lay down their burdens. It was where they would wind down their lives.

“Mr Gaeta,” said the Admiral. “I’m promoting you to XO of the Galactica.”

Felix winced, averting his eyes. He understood the intentions of his gesture. It was like the time Adama had promoted Kat back to CAG as she was lying on her deathbed. He tried not to take it as a sign of pity. He tried to smile and appreciate the sentiment of this honour at the end of their long journey. He considered that he might be the youngest XO on colonial records. But in his heart Felix knew there was only one reason why he was receiving this promotion...

Because Colonel Tigh had resigned. Because Colonel Tigh was a cylon.

“Thank you, sir,” he said flatly. “You’ve no idea how much that means to me.”

Felix didn’t make much of an effort to hide the derision in his voice. The corner of Roslin’s mouth hitched in a wry smile.

The Admiral coughed, pretending not to notice his discourtesy. “Now that we have reached our permanent settlement you will, of course, be compensated for…” Adama paused and gestured to the stumped limb below his knee, “...for injuries sustained during the course of your duty,” he finished.

Felix blinked at him in confusion. He couldn’t decide whether Starbuck had chosen to keep the truth from the old man or whether he was simply deluding himself.

“I wasn’t injured whilst doing my duty, sir,” he admitted, no longer caring to conceal it. “I was shot as a mutineer.”

Adama frowned for a moment, contemplating this declaration. Roslin didn’t bat an eyelid over his statement. It seemed she was unshakable now.

“Who was it that shot you?” Adama asked finally.

“Samuel Anders, sir.”

“Then you were shot by a cylon.”

Felix opened his mouth, only to snap it closed again. He knew better than to question him. He could sense the weight of failure and resentment in the Admiral’s tone. They had found Earth, yes, but they had brought the cylons with them. Adama could not consider their truce to be an equivalent victory. Neither could Roslin. This was something that Felix liked about them. Their memories stretched a long way back and they knew how to carry a grudge. They had held onto their grudges like shields that they had used to protect humanity every step of the way. They remembered it all…the occupation of New Caprica, the destruction of their colonies, the first cylon war. They had seen too much. They couldn’t forget, they couldn’t forgive. But this was it had come down to. The war was over...and they had lost.

Roslin glanced out of the shuttle window, taking in the grey clouds that their craft had descended into.

“Mr Gaeta…” she began softly, adopting her formal presidential tones. “You’ve plotted almost every one of our jumps over the course of this journey. You’ve navigated the path from the Twelve Colonies to the home of the Thirteenth Tribe. After all that time, after so much work…how does it feel to have finally reached our destination?”

Felix swallowed. “May I speak honestly, Madam President?”

Since it was Roslin that he was talking to Felix felt the need to ask this.

“Yes,” she answered, seeming uncertain. “Please do.”

“I feel empty,” he replied. “I feel nothing at all.”

Neither of them could meet his eyes. He knew from the way their shoulders fell that they felt the same. Adama reached across to clasp Roslin’s fingers in his large brown hand. He knew that he would have to let go of her soon. They were letting go of everything now and the hollow feeling was all that would remain. They sat through the rest of the flight in silence. It wasn’t until they landed and stepped onto the planet that they found a landscape to mirror their souls.

 

_The End_


End file.
